


enough

by intertwiningwords



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: AU, Connor Lives AU, F/F, M/M, Multi, Siblings, Suicide Attempt, rebuilding relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-05
Updated: 2017-06-05
Packaged: 2018-11-09 11:04:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11103255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/intertwiningwords/pseuds/intertwiningwords
Summary: connor is trying, and it's enough.





	enough

**Author's Note:**

> tw: slightly graphic depiction of a suicide attempt, hospitals

She was the one that found him.

He hadn’t locked the bathroom door, and after a minute or two of pounding on it, she’d just pushed it open, assuming Connor wasn’t in there and-

She  _ screamed _ , and their parents had come running, and Connor was passed out on the floor with an empty bottle of pills beside him and the rest was a fucking blur.

Now Zoe sits in the hospital waiting room in her polka-dot pajama pants, biting the shit out of her nails despite the taste of pink polish til they’re down to the point they’re  _ bleeding _ .

Her mother is pacing, cheeks still shining with tears, and her father stands still as a statue, hiding his pain behind a stoic expression.

The nurses are questioning them; where’d he get the pills, had he shown signs of being suicidal, and blah blah blah and Zoe wants to scream, “yes! he’s said it straight to our faces he wants to die and we didn’t do a damn thing!”, but she doesn’t. 

It isn’t her parents fault. It isn’t her fault. But really, isn’t it? At least a little bit?

She picks at the skin around her chewed up fingernails.

 

***

 

Connor is awake. The doctor’s weren’t sure if he’d wake up soon, or even at all. But he’s awake, and Zoe can’t bring herself to walk into the room. 

She stands outside, listens to her mother sob out apologies. Connor doesn’t say anything. Zoe can’t blame him.

Finally, she finds it within herself to walk inside. She looks at him; eyes circled by dark purple, hair a knotted mess, looking even thinner and paler than usual in a fucking hospital gown. 

She refuses to cry.

She stands by his bedside and doesn’t say a thing. He looks at her, and they lock eyes for a moment, before their mother loses it again and Connor turns to wordlessly squeeze her hand.

 

***

 

Her mother rarely leaves the hospital. Zoe can’t even begin to imagine how it must feel to see your child in such a situation, so she doesn’t say anything on the matter.

The first two days, she just went home to an empty house and enjoys the peace and quiet for once, as awful as it sounds.

But she forgot her keys that morning and rather than wait on the stoop for three hours while she waits for her dad to get home, she takes the bus to the hospital.

Zoe’s never liked hospitals. She rarely found herself in them, but when she did, they made her skin crawl. But it was too cold to sit outside, and surely she could just ask her mom for her keys and go right back home.

But her mother is so  _ happy _ to see her there, and even Connor makes an effort to sit up a little straighter when he sees her.

So, she stays, curls up in one of the visitor chairs and does her math homework. It’s awkward. Her mother tries to make conversation, but Connor is only in the mood for one-word answers. Who can blame him?

Eventually, her mom gets up, presses a kiss to Connor’s temple with the promise she’ll be “right back,” because she needs coffee.

Connor watches her go, and starts running his fingers through his long hair, wincing as it gets caught on the knots along the way.

Zoe watches him over her homework, but watching him rip out his own hair is bothering her immensely, so she sighs, reaches into her backpack and pulls out a brush and hands it to him.

He blinks at her, before taking it. However, his IV is in the way of him successfully managing to use it, and he huffs in annoyance (the most noise she’d heard him make since he got here).

She sighs again, and puts her homework down. “Scoot up a little,” she tells him softly.

He does as he’s told, and she sits on the edge of the bed beside him and starts running the brush through his hair, trying not to hurt him too badly as she pulls it through the tangles.

He flinches occasionally, but otherwise stays still and quiet, which she appreciates.

It doesn’t take long until she’s satisfied she’s gotten all the knots out, and she stands up and goes back to her chair, stuffing the brush in her bag. She’s already returned to her homework when a hoarse voice says, “thank you.”

She looks up, and Connor looks right back at her, and she forces her lips to quirk up into a smile.

It’s a start in the right direction.

 

***

 

Zoe starts going to the hospital more often now. They’re keeping Connor on suicide watch for a few extra days, as they’ve apparently evaluated it’s ‘what’s best for him’. 

She mostly just sits in silence and does her homework while her mother talks. Sometimes, when their mother leaves the room, Connor will ask her how school is, or something like that.

It’s awkward, like small talk with a stranger, but it’s the most they’ve had in years.

They were close once, when they were young. Connor had adored her when she was first born, and there were countless photos and videos and stories to tell of them playing together. Zoe could remember a few things too, like the time the fell off her bike and Connor had carried her into the house though all she’d done was scrape her knee, or the time a boy on the playground shoved her and Connor purposefully aimed a basketball straight at the kid’s head.

But when Connor turned thirteen, everything started to change. He didn’t want to play with her anymore, wouldn’t talk to her, would barely even look at her. He’d just lock himself in his room and when he did come out, he’d yell and stomp his feet and Zoe  _ hated _ him for it at the time, and kind of still does.

But the Connor sitting in front of her is different.

Zoe doesn’t know how to feel.

 

***

 

Connor comes home the next night, and dinner is painful.

Nobody knows what to say or how to act, and Connor is honestly just glad to be eating something that isn’t the disgusting hospital food.

Zoe keeps looking at her parents. Say something, say something. Tell him you’re sorry. You’re sorry you didn’t realize and you’re sorry you didn’t take his feelings seriously and you’re sorry you didn’t get him help. Say you’re happy he’s alive and say you’ll do something to help him. Say something.

They continue to eat in silence, as if Zoe’s telepathic messages aren’t going through.

“Really?” she finally says. They look up at her. “Are you just going to pretend like this never happened?”

“Zoe, please-” her father starts, and she slams her hand down on the table.

“Your son just tried to kill himself,” she spits, “you can’t brush that off. You’ve pretended everything is fine for so long but you can’t pretend anymore!”

Connor is staring at her, and her mother is crying again.

She takes a deep breath.

And they talk. Connor is reluctant to speak up, but he listens, and nods along, and Zoe watches her parents try to come to terms with the fact that they aren’t a perfect family.

She just hopes everything works out.

 

***

 

Connor speaks. Well, not much, but he’s back to his normal amount of sparse speaking.

He’s sitting on the couch when Zoe walks in, and tentatively makes her way over to the couch.

“Can I sit with you?” she asks.

Connor shrugs.

Their parents are both out, and Zoe can’t help but need to keep an eye on him.

She sits down. Connor’s just channel surfing, and she watches the different programs flick by.

Connor yawns. “I’m so fucking tired,” he says, “I should just take some more pills and maybe this time it’ll put me into a coma.”

His tone is sarcastic, light,  _ joking _ , and Zoe’s hands ball into fists.

“That’s not fucking funny, alright? I don’t know why you think it is because it’s not. You know I’m the one that found you? You were passed out on the floor and the doctor’s weren’t sure when you were going to wake up, if you even woke up at all! Mom didn’t move from outside your room all night. I didn’t sleep or eat until they told us you were okay. So don’t fucking joke about that, okay?” 

Somewhere in the middle of her rant, she’d stood up, and when she finishes, she ploppes back down on the couch, her hands shaking.

It’s quiet, and she can feel Connor’s eyes on her as she tries to calm herself down.

“I’m sorry,” he finally says softly. “I guess I need to get better at thinking before I speak.”

Zoe nods.

“I know an apology isn’t really enough, but I just...I want to say I’m sorry for all the shit I put you through. I wasn’t in the right mind, and I’m not saying that as an excuse. I just...I’m really sorry,” Connor finishes, and his gaze has shifted from Zoe to the floor, and Zoe looks up at him before flinging herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck, and he awkwardly wraps an arm around her and rubs her back, the same way he did when she was little and crying over something that would be nothing to her now.

She knows it won’t be easy, but she thinks she might be able to get her brother back.

 

***

 

Connor goes to therapy. He was wary at first, but he’s getting used to it now. He’s livelier. He actually comes out of his room more than three to five times a day. Now it’s more like five to seven. It’s the little things that count.

And there are days where he barely comes out at all, and he’s back to his old self, but now his parents don’t just ignore him.

Zoe goes into his room sometimes, and finds him reading a book in bed, and she’ll sit on the corner of his bed and do her homework, and sometimes when he notices her furrowed brows he’ll help her out with a question or two. Sometimes he reads her quotes from the books. 

It’s enough.

 

***

 

Connor has his hand on her shoulder, and it’s the most awkward, unfamiliar feeling ever. He realizes this quickly and removes it, mumbling something that sounds like an apology.

She smiles, and nudges him with her elbow.

He rolls his eyes, but she can see he’s fighting off his own smile.

They’re going to the mall together, because Zoe needs something to wear to her jazz band concert tomorrow night, and Connor offers to drive her.

She expects it to be weird, shopping with her brother, but Connor is surprisingly enthusiastic about fashion. She catches him staring at some of the clothes, and nudges him again.

“Try it on!”

“What?”

“You’ve been staring at that shirt for like, five minutes. Just try it on,” she says.

“It’s a girl's shirt,” he replies.

“So?” Zoe giggles, before grabbing it off the rack and shoving it into his hand.

Connor leaves the mall having found tons of clothes, and Zoe got her concert attire, which was all she needed. Watching Connor get excited about something was an added bonus though.

 

***

 

Connor goes back to school, and Zoe knows it’s the last place he probably wants to be.

She texts him on her off period asking if he wants to walk home with her after school, and he immediately replies, “yes please”.

When the last bell rings, Zoe goes to meet Connor outside the building. He’s already there when she gets there, but he doesn’t notice her at first. His eyes are preoccupied, boring into a boy- Evan, Zoe remembers his name, who’s making his way home, hands tugging at the hem of his shirt as he walks.

“Earth to Connor,” she says, and he jumps, looking down at her.

“Hey,” he says back.

“Who were you staring at?” she asks.

“I wasn’t staring at anyone,” he replies, but Zoe sees his cheeks go red. “Let’s go, I wanna go home.”

They start walking, but Zoe won’t drop the subject.

“You were totally staring. What’s his name? Evan, right?”

“Shut up,” Connor tells her. It doesn’t hold the same venom as it used to; now it’s more of a whine.

“Do you like him?” Zoe asks.

“I barely even know him!”

“But you think he’s cute.”

“Maybe,” Connor mumbles.

Zoe grins. She’s never going to let him live this down.

 

***

 

“Just talk to him!”

“Zoe, drop it.”

“I mean, he seems to be just as awkward and friendless as you, so-”

“I’m begging you to shut up.”

Zoe huffs. “Fine. Suffer and pine in silence then.”

“Look who’s talking,” Connor scoffs.

“What do you mean?”

“I see you always trying to get close to Alana Beck. And you say I’m  _ obvious _ .” 

Now it’s Zoe’s turn to be flustered, and she shoves Connor’s shoulder, making him laugh. “Shut up!”

“Let’s make a deal: you talk to Alana, and I’ll talk to Evan. Tomorrow. Deal?”

Zoe thinks about it for a second, before sighing. “Deal.”

They shake on it.

 

***

 

Evan is a sweetheart. 

Zoe’s never heard Connor laugh as much as he does when he’s with Evan. It’s an infectious sound, and Zoe can’t help but smile when she hears it.

As for Zoe, Alana Beck is gentle and soft and sweet and Zoe is the happiest she’s been in years.

Connor seems happy too. He talks more, smiles more. He goes to therapy, takes his medication. He still has his bad days, sometimes weeks, but he's _trying_ , and that's enough.

Zoe can’t forget all the bad things, but she can _forgive_. She can let the good flow in and replace the new.

It’s enough.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> hope you enjoyed! x


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